The Audrey of the Outback Collection (9 page)

Today, no matter how hard she tried, being a pirate didn’t seem fun. Or real. She dropped her sword-stick and turned to look out over the flat, red sand to where the scrub began. The place where she last saw Stumpy.

‘What can you see out there, pirate?’ Dad stretched his aching back.

‘I’m not a pirate any more.’

‘That was quick.’

Audrey sat on the ground beside her stick. ‘It’s not much fun without St … on my own. Price reckons he’s too big for games now, and Douglas is too little.’

‘You made a hard choice in letting Stumpy go,’ said Dad. ‘But don’t grow up too quickly, Two-Bob.’

‘I won’t be grown-up for a long time. Maybe forever. Is forever the longest time? Or is there a bigger time?’

‘Forever sounds mighty long to me.’

‘Do watches make time?’

‘Watches
count
time,’ said Dad. ‘They don’t make it.’

‘So where does it start?’

‘Even when you’re a grown-up, there are some things you just don’t know.’

Audrey picked up the stick that used to be a sword and scraped it across the sand, making a wide, smooth track. ‘When you were away I tried doing grown-up things like being a swaggie, a man and even a teacher.’

‘I see. You were busy, then.’

‘Reckon I’ll stay a girl for a while.’

‘I think you make a bonzer girl, Audrey.’

‘But I didn’t know girls could be so lonely.’

‘It’s not the same without you.’

Thirty

Audrey stood alone at the back of the house. She heard the crack of a ball hitting wood. Her family were out the front playing cricket.

Dad had brought home a cricket ball from Beltana, and Price had made a bat from a lump of wood. It was thicker in some spots than others. Price’s woodwork was like his dad’s. Solid, but crooked.

There was a shout from Dad. Douglas squealed.

Dad’s dog, Grease, was barking. He didn’t like being tied to the tank stand. But if he wasn’t tied, he would keep grabbing the ball in his mouth and running off with it. No one wanted to bowl when there was dog saliva all over the ball.

Audrey stared out to the edge of the scrub. The bushes seemed to blur and bend. She blinked, and the bushes looked straight again.

Running footsteps sounded behind her.

‘Audrey,’ yelled Price. ‘We need a bowler. Want to play?’

She shook her head and kept staring at the scrubby hills where Stumpy wandered without her.

‘I’ll let you have a go at batting, too,’ he promised. ‘Mum’s being the umpire cos she can’t run.’

Again Audrey shook her head.

She expected Price to return to the cricket game. But he came to stand beside her. ‘It’s not the same without you.’

‘I don’t feel so good without Stumpy.’

‘Yeah.’ He swallowed hard, as if he wanted to say something but had to get ready first. ‘Audrey, Stumpy isn’t a real camel. He’s imaginary.’

‘No, he’s not. He’s just invisible. You can’t see him.’

‘It’s awful when you miss people.’ Price hesitated. ‘Can I tell you a secret?’

Audrey turned to look at him. Sweat streaked the dust on her brother’s cheeks. His hair was all over the place.

‘When Jimmy left to go back to the city,’ he said, ‘I cried.’

Audrey stared in disbelief. ‘I didn’t see you.’

‘’Course not,’ Price said. ‘I cried by myself, when no one was looking.’

Audrey thought about that for a moment. ‘How come girls are allowed to cry when people are looking, but not boys? Is that sort of like men always knowing what they’re doing?’

A grin slipped across Price’s face.

Audrey couldn’t help chuckling.

‘You’re always going to remind me about blowing up the dunny, aren’t you?’ said Price. ‘Even when we’re really old and bent like boomerangs.’

‘I reckon so.’

Suddenly there was a gust of wind. Red sand lifted like dry fog. Then the wind spun round and round, whipping the sand into a frenzy.

‘Look at that,’ said Price. ‘It’s a ripper.’

As soon as the words left his mouth, the wind stopped. Grains of red sand drifted back to earth.

‘Whoa. That’s odd.’ There was a hint of awe in Price’s voice.

Goosebumps ran down Audrey’s arms. It was one of those ghost winds. She and Price exchanged startled glances.

Audrey gripped her brother’s arm. ‘If you let someone go and they come back because they want to, they can stay because you haven’t made them. Right?’

‘I guess so.’

‘Good.’ Audrey smiled. ‘Because Stumpy’s back. It’s another miroolcool.’

She gazed towards the spot where the dust devil had vanished. ‘Stumpy’s running pretty fast. He’ll need a drink when he gets home. Fair dinkum.’

Audrey Goes to Town

Audrey could hardly wait to get to Beltana.

One

Audrey Barlow bounced as the wheels of the wooden cart hit a pothole. Although the floor was padded with blankets and what was left in the food bags, each bump jarred Audrey and her brothers.

Douglas fell sideways, giggling. He was only three, so he giggled at nearly everything.

‘Sesiting, isn’t it?’ said Audrey.

‘
Ex
citing.’ Price tried to sit straight and tall, as though he didn’t care about the roughness of the bush track or the town they would reach that afternoon. But his eyes shone.

Eucalyptus trees grew on the wide plain. Although the sand was not as red as back home, the grey saltbush was familiar. And there were tufts of green grass. Maybe it rained more in the south. A grey rabbit scurried across the track, its tail and ears flashing white.

Audrey looked up at her parents on the high front seat of the cart. Mum had been unusually quiet for most of the trip. Her face was pale. Audrey wondered if Mum’s leg was hurting. Years earlier, a tank stand had crushed it, so she walked with a limp.

Dad turned his head to peer at Audrey from beneath the brim of his battered hat. His bushy beard fluttered in the wind. ‘Not far now, Two-Bob.’

She grinned. Dad always used her nickname. A swaggie called Bloke had given Audrey that name when she’d said, ‘You’re as crazy as a two-bob watch.’

Swaggies usually avoided towns. But Audrey could hardly wait to get to Beltana. From her home in the bush, it was three days’ walk to the nearest house. And a lot more than that to a town.

‘Dad, are the houses in Beltana really right next to each other, in rows?’ asked Audrey.

‘Sure as eggs.’

‘There won’t be so many flies because there’s more people to share them.’ Back home, flies stuck to their backs like dark coats. Especially on north wind days.

Suddenly Mum grabbed Dad’s arm. ‘Stop!’

Two

Mum half-dropped, half-jumped to the ground without waiting for Dad’s help.

Audrey exchanged a surprised look with Price.

Their mum bent over, her arms cradling her stomach, and began retching into the saltbushes.

Douglas slipped his hand into Audrey’s and squeezed. Silence settled on the family. The only sound was Mum going for the big spit, and the wind hissing dust.

Dad stood, holding the camels steady. His rough hands were as battered as his hat. Dirt stained his fingernails. Dad narrowed his eyes and stared at the Flinders Ranges on the horizon. Audrey guessed he was trying not to make Mum feel awkward about being sick.

He slipped the reins into his left hand and, with his right, patted his top pocket. Although he had given up tobacco, he still liked to chew on the empty clay pipe. He fumbled as he took it from his pocket and the pipe fell to the ground.

Snort lifted one of his large flat feet and crushed it.

Dad glared at his camel, then down at the crumbs of his favourite pipe.

‘Snort’s in twubble,’ said Douglas.

‘Snort’s
always
in trouble.’ Audrey wriggled her fingers. They were starting to tingle from her little brother’s tight grip.

Dad must have been very worried if he could watch his pipe get smashed and not say naughty words.

Mrs Barlow reached into her pocket for a handkerchief. She turned to face the family. Her skin was shiny with perspiration. She moved her mouth into the shape of a smile, but it didn’t look real.

‘Are you all right?’ asked Audrey.

Mrs Barlow nodded. ‘I’m not a good traveller.’

Dad gave Mum a funny look like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. He offered Mum his hand. She took it and climbed back onto the front seat of the cart.

As they began moving again, Mum’s back was straight and she didn’t take her eyes off the track ahead. But she gripped the seat with both hands as though she might slide off. Audrey had a strange feeling, as though someone had whispered something important and she’d missed what was said.

Three

A glint of light to the left of the track caught Audrey’s attention. She blinked hard. It was the kind of warm, clear afternoon when mirages shimmered in the distance. But this glint was real.

‘I can see the railway line!’ she shouted. ‘I wish a train would come past so we could hear the driver blow the whistle.’

‘There’s the station,’ said Price. The tremble in his voice gave away a hidden thrill at seeing the first building.

‘Where?’

Price pointed.

At first, all Audrey saw were trees. Then she spotted an iron roof. She didn’t mind that Price had been first to notice the station. She’d seen the railway line before anyone else.

‘I want to see the fing too.’ Douglas tugged at Audrey’s sleeve.

She wasn’t sure that her little brother knew what that
thing
was. Douglas sometimes became excited without understanding why.

As they drew closer, the station building seemed to grow larger. The platform was hidden on the other side of the building. Three Aboriginal men sat together with their backs against the wall. One of the men nodded a greeting. Audrey and Douglas waved.

The track widened. Two carts could have passed each other, side-by-side.

A flapping cloud of feathers and noise rose from a tree. The screeching pink-andwhite cockatoos made Audrey jump. Her mother laughed. Audrey was glad that Mum was feeling better. Their trip was almost over. Perhaps, when the cart stopped rocking, so would her mum’s stomach.

To the right of the track, mounds and headstones showed a graveyard. Audrey pictured the wooden crosses at home that marked the resting place of her two sisters, Pearl and Esther. Here in town, people were buried with many of their friends. Even when they died, they were not alone.

Just past the graveyard, a large dam reflected the blue of the sky.

‘Strike a light,’ shouted Audrey. ‘Look at all that water.’

‘That’s for the steam trains,’ said Dad.

‘Town’s an amazing place. They even water their trains!’

Four

‘What’s that, Pwice?’ shouted Douglas, pointing to a building on the edge of town.

‘It’s the telegraph station. You can send messages and letters from there.’

‘Whenever you want?’ said Audrey.

‘I guess so.’

At home the Barlow family used to wait for Mr Akbar to turn up on his camel with their mail. Sometimes it was months between visits. Now the mail was supposed to come in a truck. So far, that hadn’t happened. Maybe the new mailman was still trying to find their house.

Audrey ran her tongue over the grit on her front teeth. She couldn’t do anything about the dust on her skin. Her fair hair was tied into plaits, but a few loose strands always escaped. Her mother sometimes said she looked like something the cat dragged in. Which wasn’t really true. They didn’t have a cat.

After the telegraph station, there were houses along proper town roads. Most of the ramshackle buildings sat on bare dirt. Audrey had imagined gardens so green they would be too vivid to look at without blinking. There were trees, but no grass. Not even saltbush.

‘Leaping lizards!’ Audrey called out. ‘Those houses have glass in their windows.’

‘So will ours, one day, Two-Bob,’ said Dad. ‘You wait and see.’

They rattled past a hotel. It had a long verandah decorated with green plants in tubs. Laughter billowed out of the open windows. After the hotel there were more houses and then a tiny school. The schoolyard was silent.

‘It’s holiday time,’ Dad explained.

Then Audrey smelled something familiar. Fresh bread! Dad had told her Beltana had a real bakery. Not just an outside oven made from crushed ants’ nests, as they had at home.